


The Secret To Survival

by frerardtrashaf



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Art School, Internet, M/M, Online Relationship, Online Romance, Teenagers, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frerardtrashaf/pseuds/frerardtrashaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life sucks, but you make it a little more bearable. I just wish I could touch you... Hold you... Be held by you... I love you, but I can't have you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I orriginall wrote this for wattpad, so the point of views do continuously switch. I know that's a bit bothersome for archive, but I do hope that you enjoy the story, nonetheless :)

     The world is a filthy place when you look hard enough. Full of depression and mistakes. No one likes each other and they will do anything in their power to hurt one another.

     Frank doesn't understand why people like living. Say something bad happens to someone on the same day something good happens. That person will only hardly remember the good things, because the memory of the bad thing will weigh out that of the pleasant. That's basically the theme of Frank's tumblr- depression. He owns a fairly well known tumblr blog about depression and things that have to do with the world's corruption, such as the fucked up shit kids think and the fucked up way they act now of days. However, it's discrete. No one at his high school knows about it, or, at least they don't know it's his, and his followers don't know who is running the account. He likes it that way. No one can judge him by his looks, lifestyles, or sense of dress, like they do at his school.

     No, he's not bullied or anything; at least not physically. There's the occasional shove or harsh word, most definitely the average glare or role of the eye in his direction, but nothing any normal kid his age doesn't get already. No, he's not bullied, but the self hatred is enough to weigh him down.

-

     Gerard Way is a twenty-one year old college student. Frank Iero is a sixteen year old troubled high schooler. When their worlds collide, the messiness is _almost_ worth the strong emotions they feel for one another.


	2. Restless Dreamers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters will get longer as the plot unfolds.

     It's late. Far too much later than it should be. Gerard knows he'll have trouble waking up in the morning, but he's just far too addicted to tumblr. He has early classes the next morning and it's already 2:00am. Yeah, sure, he's being irresponsible, but he doesn't care. The twenty-one year old is scrolling through his dash when he sees a republished post. It reads "my thoughts have destroyed me more than blades ever could". It pains Gerard to see things like that constantly popping up, reminding him of his "glory" days as an awkward little emo teen. He laughs to himself at the memory of his long black hair and studded belt daily attire. He used to be that way; hating himself. But he learned to see the beauty in everything. The world isn't some bottomless pit, ready to swallow up anyone who realized it's true form. The world is full of art and metaphors and love. Blind, hopeless love.

     He goes to the original post's blog, follows it, and clicks on the envelope icon. He wants to talk to this person, show her that the world isn't as harsh as she's led herself to believe.

     "Life isn't always going to be as bad as it seems, take it from someone whose experienced what you're feeling. I'm proof things can get better and I'm positive that things can be better for you as well. You're probably a beautiful girl with a lot to offer the world. Just hang on long enough for the world to have the privilege to experience the beauty that you hold. (btw I'm not trying to hit on you, I just care)".

     He hopes she doesn't get the wrong idea and get her hopes up. He isn't trying to be rude, he just doesn't roll that way. He's known that for a very long time. Gerard was 16 when he suspected he didn't really like girls. Some chick kissed him and it wasn't nearly as pleasant as everyone always describes it, he didn't feel a spark or anything at all. Then when Gerard was 18 he got a tumblr. That site's chock full of some of the gayest shit he'd ever seen. And he loved it. The curious boy quickly realized who he was. He got really happy every time he saw two guys kissing and Gerard always got mad whenever he read some of the stories of what homophobes had said and/or done to extraordinary people who just so happened to be homosexual. His tumblr is somewhat of a mess. Republished artistic masterpieces done by infamous people here, LGBT arguments there; but mostly just the everyday nonsense that maled up the website. Not really an eye catcher, but he's cozy with it. A sort of dated picture for his profile.. He'll probably have to take a new one. However, it is terribly late. Gerard should be getting to bed, as it's already 2:30am and he'd need to be waking up in a few hours.

     With that, he falls into a restless sleep, but not a bothersome one. A sleep full with colors and endless possibilities; hopes and abstract thoughts, doing what they please within his mind- not in control with what happens while dreaming. And he wouldn't have it any other way. It's nothing but pure. While dreaming, there's nothing holding back the human brain from creating whatever thoughts or scenario it likes. Like he said, it's the purest thing; sleep, dreams, the mind's free will. And Gerard has learned just how much it needs to be appreciated.


	3. Anxious Hearts

     As he walks through his front door, Frank knows no one's home. His mother should be in the kitchen or living room, however she must be out running errands. Perfect. He trudges up the stairs and walks through the second door on the right; his bedroom. Throwing his backpack off of his shoulder, onto the floor, Frank flops onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling before reaching over and plugging his phone into the speaker sitting on his nightstand.

     Turning the volume all the way up probably isn't the best idea, but his neighbor has been giving his mom shit about the property line and Frank has to listen to the crinkly old bitch whine, so he thinks "ah what the hell" and opens his window that just so happens to be facing towards her house. Frank feels the cool breeze and natural sunlight unfold into his previously unlit bedroom and it sends him instantly into a relaxed mood.      His music blasting, the slightly chilly air blowing into him room; causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up in just the right way, the light hitting his poster covered walls, and his messily made queen sized bed tucked into the corner of his room accompanied by his worn-and-washed-so-many-times-it's-basically-gray, black comforter and unreasonably large amount of pillows makes Frank's head stop throbbing as it has been doing all throughout the day and his muscles relax just a bit more since school started back around two months previously.

     He grabs his MacBook and buries himself into his abundance of pillows while opening it and logging into tumblr. He has a few notifications. Some follows, some likes, some republishes, some.. Fan mail?? No one ever sends him fan mail.. No one wants to talk to the depressed kid. They just wanted to hear their story and find out their secrets. Frank opens it, none the less, curiosity getting the better of him, and is confused as to what He finds. "Life isn't always going to be as bad as it seems, take it from someone who's experienced what you're feeling. I'm proof things can get better and I'm positive that things can be better for you as well. You're probably a beautiful girl with a lot to offer the world. Just hang on long enough for the world to have the privilege to experience the beauty that you hold. (btw I'm not trying to hit on you, I just care)".

     This chick doesn't know what she's talking about. She was probably so fucked up on antidepressants that she doesn't know what life is anymore. Life is the depression. No one can recover from life without using death as a solution. But Frank knows she is just trying to help. And she is kinda pretty in her profile picture, with her short red hair that falls around her shoulders, covering the majority of her face. He supposes he'll be sweet about letting her know she's wrong and won't go ape shit because she called him a girl.      "Thank you, I appreciate it, but I'm going to have to disagree. I'm not sure what's happened in your life or if we even have the same problems. I respect you but you don't understand how it feels. I'm my own problem. It's hard when your entire existence is the depression. I can't overcome my problems if I am the problem- not without the solution of death. No, that's not some suicide warning, it's okay. Don't worry. I just don't think that a happy ending is reasonable in my case. And I'll except that beautiful, but I'm a beautiful 16 year old boy, sweet heart ;) (and don't worry, I'm not hitting on you either, I'm probably as straight as a rainbow)". What compelled him to open up so much to a stranger, Frank has no idea. He supposes it could be simply for the exact reason: she's in fact that of stranger. He's a bit worried and contemplated, during and after writing the message, whether or not he should send it or not. She doesn't know his face, she doesn't know his name, she doesn't know where he lives, and she doesn't know his story. All she knows is a few more details to add to what Frank is going to guess she has already assumed from his blog- He is depressed.

     Frank hears the front door slam shut, indicating that his mother has arrived home from what He'll assume was the grocery store by the sound of rustling plastic bags. "Frank turn down your music and come help me with these groceries!", she yells over the sound of his speaker. Frank sighs and stands up as he begins to make his way downstairs into the kitchen to help his mother put things away and prepare for dinner, right after pressing send, accompanied by a regretful pang of anxiety to his troubled heart.


	4. New Eyes

     Classes are a drag, Gerard doesn't understand why He needs to take psychology in order to become a professional comic book artist/author. What about the three parts of the psychic apparatus will help him in drawing or writing stories? He's not saying the class is useless, but there's nothing Gerard needs to know, in order to become successful in what he aspires to be, in that class that will benefit him. Gerard wanted to write comics ever since He was little. When he lived at home, it wasn't the best neighborhood. He was never aloud to be out past 6:00pm or whenever the sun went down, for his parents worried about his and his brother, Mikey's, safety. Gerard has never liked the outdoors much, anyway. He'd stay in his room all day after school, either drawing or writing. Putting those two together, He would create many comic books. Gerard's favorite and proudest work being The Séance. He was a hero with the power to talk to dead superheroes. Every time he'd talk to another spirit, he'd get their power. He'd fight crimes using his variety of many different powers. It was one of Gerard's proudest works, next to one he's currently working on called the Umbrella Academy. When he graduates, He's going to try to professionally publish either the Séance or the Umbrella Academy.

     When he steps through the front door of his tiny dorm, Gerard is relieved to remember that his roommate had just dropped out. "I know I know," he thinks to himself,"what a shitty thing to be happy about." He is just so glad to have the entire dorm to himself for the rest of the semester and possibly even next semester, if no one new decides to attend. It's no secret that Gerard is a loner; he likes it that way. It's just that people don't understand him. He much rathers watching people than interacting with them.

     Falling down onto his bed, due to utter exhaustion, Gerard blindly feels around for his laptop. Without much luck, he sighs and looks around his room. He spots it laying on his large window seal, plugged in, and walks over to it; sitting down on the seal, admiring the pretty sunset's light rays cascading over the Orange-red leaved trees due to the fall season. Fall has always been Gerard's favorite season; with it's pretty colors and perfect weather.

     The powered laptop warms his legs as he sits sideways, knees up, to fit onto the seal of the window. Once logged into tumblr, he Immediately recognizes the notification he had been waiting to receive all day and smiles to himself. "Thank you, I appreciate it, but I'm going to have to disagree. I'm not sure what's happened in your life or if we even have the same problems. I respect you but you don't understand how it feels. I'm my own problem. It's hard when your entire existence is the depression. I can't overcome my problems if I am the problem- not without the solution of death. No, that's not some suicide warning, it's okay. Don't worry. I just don't think that a happy ending is reasonable in my case. And I'll except that beautiful, but I'm a beautiful 17 year old boy, sweet heart ;) (and don't worry, I'm not hitting on you either, I'm probably as straight as a rainbow)".

     Gerard's smile quickly falls into a frown. He knew it wouldn't be as easy as it seemed to help her- wait, no, him. That shocks him. However, it also shoots an ounce of excitement to his heart. He supposes now there's no shame in flirting with a fellow gay boy. Even if he doesn't know what he looks like, it wont matter. Beauty is skin deep, and by the sound of it, he seems like a pretty cool guy.

     "I know exactly what you mean, no need to feel alone about all of this. I had the unfortunate case to not have anyone there for me; to show me the light of life I thought never even existed, but I taught myself how to find it. Life isn't always bad if you look at it from a certain angle. Please don't be offended, but I feel as if you choose to look at the ugly sides of the world and that can make for a pretty nasty opinion of the it. Don't you know of the metaphors life holds? The colors? The hopes, the aspiration and ambition that every life possesses? The importance of every soul, the abstract arts of every landscape, every sentence spoken? The earth is far too big, with countless hidden art forms imbedded into every crevice of it's being. If you choose to let yourself see them all, life won't anymore be a bottomless pit, but a painting that new details are seen in, every time you take a second glance. Please, let me help you find your new eyes that I know are waiting to find you. (Oh, and so am I, so I guess I can take back that "not hitting on you" thing ;) ) but, still, I really do want to see you reach your happy ending, which you seem to think is out of question in your position and that just makes me want to help you find it even more- mostly I just want to prove you wrong ;)"

     Satisfied with his response, Gerard hits send. Glancing over his page, he remembers his outdated profile picture. Oh great; this now means he gets to take 140 selfies and only like one. Opening up his camera application, he poses, clicks the camera button, opens the picture, clicks delete, repeats. But, after about twenty minutes, he's finally satisfied.


	5. Little Mrs. New Boobs

This person just won't stop. She won't except frank's thoughts. He knows she's happy but she hasn't cured herself; she's simply blinded herself of the fact that life is shit. And what did she mean by taking back the hitting on him thing? Frank was rude to her, and there's the fact that she has no idea what he even looks like. Not to mention him telling her that he's gay which seemed to faze her 0%.

     He exits out of the last message she had sent to him about an hour ago and clicks on her page. The profile picture has changed. Oh my god, he thought to himself. He supposes he had fucked up because that is not a pretty girl. No no, that is a fucking hot guy. Oh shit oh shit. A fucking hot guy was flirting with Frank and this had never happened and he couldn't breath and he felt like squealing and kicking his legs up and down and this guy had just asked if he could help Frank feel better about the world and himself and he was going to cry because happiness.

     However, if he knew Frank, he wouldn't think twice about never replying. This guy doesn't know of Frank's scars. His pudgy stomach and thighs. His low IQ and his acne. His never-not-greesy hair and his inability to ever except a compliment because he knows that every nice word uttered in his direction is nothing but a lie. There isn't a good quality about him. The world is nothing near what this guy's describing it as. There are no metaphors besides the ones implying that nothing is ever going to get better. That's the reason Frank keeps his hopes so low that maybe they aren't even there anymore. What's the point of hope if everything always just goes to shit anyway? Every time He gets the happy feeling of something going right in his life, reality decides to stab him in the back- just to show him that He's a fool for thinking something happy could come of his life for once.

     He drums his fingers across the keyboard, without actually typing anything. Frank wants to continue this debate with the intriguing man but this messaging over tumblr thing is growing to be annoying. So, He starts typing through the site for, hopefully, the last time.

     "I think you're wrong;P, but it's much easier to type through texting. Care to continue this through phone numbers? I'd really love to prove to you how right I am and wrong you are"

     Frank takes several minutes, debating whether or not He wants to send it. He has no idea who this guy even is. For all He knows, that could be a fake picture. And does Frank really trust him enough to send out his phone number? And now that the paranoia sets in, what if this person is actually from his school and he- or maybe she- was just trying to find out all of frank's secrets and exploit them to the whole school so his life is even more of a living hell? Perhaps he's just working himself up over this, the guy seems to be real.. But He still doesn't know.

     Frank is startled when He hears his mother call him from downstairs, causing him to jump and accidentally press his finger into the mouse. Now, that would have been fine, if the courser wasn't hovering over the "send" button during his internal debate. He curses under his breathe and tries to find a way to delete the message before it's sent, however, to his dismay, there is no way to stop its delivery before it will reach him, causing a nervous and regretful feeling to settle in the pit of frank's stomach. "Well, there goes thinking this over," he thinks to himself.

     Sighing, He stands up and makes his way downstairs, into the the kitchen, where his mother is located. She's leaning over the counter with her head in one hand, rubbing her temples, while her other hand is occupied by the cup of steaming coffee she's tightly gripping onto. Frank walks up to her and looks at the computer she has turned in his direction. Shit. It's his first report card for the year, his highest grade being an 83. He contemplates  trying to defend himself; saying that it's her's and the school's councilor's fault- pressuring him during course selection week last year into taking non-fun electives that gives him higher credit and all AP classes. He decides against it, though, because he can see that she is stressed, probably more worried about him graduating at the end of the year, than she is angry.

     "I'm sorry mom.. I really am trying. It's just hard." He speaks quietly, without her having to even say a word about what she called him down for.

     He really is trying, he does his homework every night and He even occasionally goes to bed at a decent hour- such as 12:00am. Okay, that part isn't really frank's fault- but tumblr's. It's addictive, it pulls him in; calls his name.

     "I know, but with your dad and I divorced now, there's a lot more pressure on me to make sure you graduate and succeed in life, as there is on you too. If something- just the slightest thing, goes wrong- it's up to him and little miss new boobs to take me to court, again, accusing me of not being fit to raise you properly", she sighs.

     "I know mom, I'm sorry. I'll start studying more and going to tutoring, okay?", he softy speaks, trying to give her some kind of hope.

     "Thanks sweet heart, you know I really am proud of you."

     "Oh my god mom shut up this isn't a dramatic movie", he chuckles, making her laugh too.

     "I know I know, I'll stop" she says, calming down, "And besides, I'm just trying to rub it in his face that you picked me to live with instead of him and the whore as much and as long as I can", she finishes, proudly, as she puts her now empty mug in the sink, and walks out of the room- messing up his hair on her way, causing Frank to scrunch his face up and pull away from her, laughing.


	6. Little Mr. mystery Boy

Don't get him wrong, there are some days when Gerard still wants to say "fuck it, life sucks," like when his computer crashes while he's in the middle of working on an un-saved assignment and it's almost 2:00am and he's out of coffee to help him stay awake and it's due the next day and he's on the last fucking paragraph and he wants to fucking scream.. Like last night. But, even things like that can't bring his mood down anymore. Gerard has been finished with his depressions for a long time now and he's not about to let that no longer be true. So, the next morning, Gerard emails his professor, telling him his computer had crashed late last night, like he'll actually believe him, and starts making his way down to the closest decent coffee shop within a reasonable range of his dorm. His dorm room isn't all that bad. It's only him living there so there isn't too much shit cluttering the place, aside from the mountains of dirty laundry and empty microwaveable and takeout food containers.

     Walking down the streets of New York has always been quite nerve racking for Gerard, considering he's practically a hermit, still living in his high school day's fear. Some truly nasty things had happened to him within the walls of his high school's hallways and the streets of new York compared to those now seemingly tiny hallways are like a nightmare come true. In those hallways everyone knew you and you knew everyone else, but in New York everyone's a stranger and automatically assumed to not be trusted. Everyone seems to be ten times older than Gerard, thus making him feel like some sort of prey in their mighty-loin's-den-feeling, smashed together, sky scraper community.

     When he first moved to the big city, he felt like a lost pet who had ran away from home, not having the brain capacity to look beyond the present and see any kind of dangers that may be in store for him as his consequence. Gerard's parents had warned him about all the people, how busy it is, and what may happen if he misses any classes, but he was too blind with the fact that, hey, he's going to fuckin New York City. During his first month he was a wreck, but now he feels like a New York expert. Sure, he still gets anxiety every time he's on the busy streets, but Gerard is sure everyone else on those same streets do as well. He rounds the corner and makes his way down the street that his favorite coffee shop is located. It's really quite a cool place; more of a two story library, but the upstairs consists of a coffee shop on the far back side. Theres a big squared hole in the ceiling for a balcony that over looks the majority of the place from the second floor, making the space feel more open and lively. As He enters the store, the bell above him sounds, signaling his arrival.

     "Hey Gerard," one of the employees that He had gotten to know over his time coming here greets him.

     Gerard simply waves back with a smile, a bit too irritated about the reason He had come- to find a peaceful place to rewrite his paper- to be cheery about the sunny day and all that shit. He makes his way up the spiral staircase and seats himself at his usual table; the one in the back corner away from the bright sunlight cascading through the wall of windows on the right side of the shop.

     Opening up his laptop, Gerard has the instant urge to check tumblr with no intention to act against it. He types in his username and password and looks through his notifications. A broad smiled shines it's way across Gerard's face when He sees he's gotten a notification from him; Mr. Mystery. He was unsure whether or not he'd respond. He was afraid he had scared the boy away with his long sentences and weird metaphors.

     "I think you're wrong ;P but, it's much easier to type through texting. Care to continue this through phone numbers? I'd really love to prove to you how right I am and wrong you are ;)," his message reads.

     "Oh god, please be flirting.. Please be flirting.. Please be flirting," Gerard thinks to himself.

     He is infatuated by his mystery boy and he doesn't even know his age or what he looked like. Even if beauty is not appearance, he'd still kill to see his face. Most likely just as beautiful on the outside as he is on the inside. Maybe Gerard could get him to facetime, or skype- if he doesn't have an apple product- with him sometime, just so he could see his Mr. Mystery's face.

     Of course, he'd never tell him he dreams about seeing him. Or that he calls him his mystery boy. Those are Gerard's little secrets about his little mystery. And he wouldn't want to freak him out, as intrigued as he is with the boy, Gerard can't lose him before He's even learned his precious name. Probably something cute. Short and simple- yet couldn't get anymore adorable. He day dreams about him for a solid ten minutes before snapping himself out of it and attempts to come up with a decent, flirtatious response.

     "Good excuse, hun ;) we both know you just needed a reason to ask for my number, but it's okay :) I wouldn't dream of giving it to anyone else. 866.740.4531 oxo - gee"

     Risky? Probably. Does Gerard care? Hell yeah. Will he let it show? Hell no. He pushes send before he lets himself debate over it too long and clicks on the Pages icon to begin rewriting his essay. After approximately 20 minutes he gives up, only completing barely a paragraph. Gerard doesn't want to leave yet, mainly for the reason of his laziness and not wanting to stand up. That and the fact that the coffee shop just feels so peaceful with that old library smell and beautiful sunlight cascading through the air.

     Sighing to himself, Gerard clicks on safari again an opens up his tumblr. He had just begun scrolling mindlessly through his feed when he feels a vibration in his pocket. His heart beat speeds up, afraid and both excited- wishing desperately for it to be his mystery boy. He slowly lowers his hand into the pocket of his jeans and gripped the cellphone tightly in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Gerard pulls it out and looks at the screen. Slamming his phone on the table, a sharp, head turning thud sounds through the shop. Fuck his boss. He doesn't even have to come in today, but fucking josh is still texting him, telling him he has to come in early tomorrow to open. Fuck this.

     But then, another vibration. A little louder due to the phone now being on the table. Gerard carelessly picks it up and opens it, without looking at what had notified it to buzz due to his utter irritation. And there it was- a text from an unknown number- reading possibly one of the most adorably flustered things his Mr. Mystery could've said in response to his last message over tumblr. Gerard chuckles to himself for reacting so childishly- but not sorry for it, feeling his heart beat speed up once again and the blood rush to his face due to him being so adoring over such a pure little creature. Like a fucking woodland animal, fuck, it's cute. He is cute. Gerard's Mr. Mystery is a fuckin cutie. And he don't even know his face.


	7. Steady Hearts

Frank is sitting in the middle of fucking AP English when he gets the message. His mobile tumblr application notifies him of the pretty boy's fan mail, rather loudly do to the absence of his phone being on vibrate. He scrambles to immediately turn the ringer off as all heads of his peers turn to face him, along with Mr. Harris. A silent blush rises to Frank's cheeks, without it showing in his expression. He grabs his phone and brings it into his lap, waiting for everyone's heads to turn back to the video playing on the projector. When he gets his chance, he tilts his head down and checks the notification that caused him all the trouble in the first place. Frank's blush is nowhere near disappearing as his eyes thoroughly scan through the words boring into his heart from my screen.

     "Good excuse, hun ;) we both know you just needed a reason to ask for my number, but it's okay :) I wouldn't dream of giving it to anyone else. 866.740.4531 oxo - gee"

     Oh fucking hell. He's on the verge of giggling and that would not look good with his reputation of never talking. He would fuck up his mute strike he's had since his suicide attempt last spring. The only person he speaks to is his mother. Gee. Frank wonders if it's short for something. Probably something weird but adorable as hell none the less, because he can't think of anything that would be longer for gee, but just knowing his sweet and smart character and seeing his hot as Fuck face, it's gotta be adorable. His face. Fuck. Seriously, his face!? Call Frank cheesy but shouldn't that be a crime?? Okay yeah, yeah. Too cheesy.

     Why would Gee want to talk to him? "Because he doesn't know how ugly you really are," okay shut up, head. He swears to god he's going to fail this class.. Oh well. Frank finishes his internal rant and decides to text him. What does he have to lose? He hardly knows the guy. Looking back down to his phone screen, he copies and pastes the number into his contacts and labels him as "Gee <3?" As it seems plenty accurate according to Frank's mixed emotions towards him.

     What is he supposed to say? "Hi, yes, that wasn't actually failed discrete way of asking for your number but I think you're really hot so please don't ask to see my face because then you won't talk to me ever again?" He guesses he could stick with the "tough guy" act.. But then he won't seem interest and hell he is plenty interested. "Hey it's-" wait no, Gee doesn't know his name. Maybe he should keep it familiar so it could be no one else but him? "Well someone thinks highly of them self-" no that wouldn't do. It'd sounded like Frank is annoyed by his confidence. This whole thing is very nerve wracking. He totally thought he was hitting on him. He'd love to hit on him, but he doesn't think he has the balls to do it. This is actually pretty good for Frank, because technically it's like he had hit on him without actually having to put himself through the nervousness of the action, but that doesn't mean he's ready or has enough pride to let him think he was.

     "Oh um I didn't mean it like as in hitting on you like I mean I didn't mean to ask for your number like.. like that." He hits send before he can regret it. But once he does, Frank knows he has to fix his harsh sounding words.

     "Shit I mean it's not that I didn't want to hit on you because like I mean that's not what I mean.. Ugh I mean just like that wasn't my intention." He hits send again, but continues to feel unfinished with what he's trying to say. One more messages.

     "Not that that intention wouldn't be ideal for me.. If that makes like.. Any sense.."

     He decides to stop sending anymore messages after that because he's on the verge of sounding obsessive and creepy and just boarder line annoying. Hell, he's even starting to annoy myself. Frank turns his phone back over and lifts his head, averting his attention back to Mr. Harris's video, but finds himself soon drifting off into his own thoughts. What makes this Gee guy suddenly so interested in him? He sees his blog one night and decides that he needs saving? Frank doesn't think Gee realizes it, or maybe he just chose to neglect the fact, but he finds comfort in his depressions. He's known them for as long as he can remember, they've always been there to surround him. He can't think of when it all started, that's how in deep he is. Frank's always just had this feeling of self hatred every time he looks at himself or hears himself talk. He used to think he was alone and it was so stupid and pathetic to hate himself.

     That is until he started his tumblr account and found many other people just like him, boys and girls alike. He would always post depressing things, by nature. His thoughts, black and white edits, sad quotes, ect. People just seemed to always like it so it became a big thing, leading to his rising on tumblr. He has thousands of followers, shit he doesn't even remember where the number was, last. His attention is jerked back into reality as he feels a silent vibration in his hands. Frank flips his phone back over and sees he has received a message from gee, causing his blush to come back without permission. How does he have such an affect on Frank?

     "Is that your shy way of saying you didn't MEAN to flirt but you have no problem with actually flirting? ;) because I warn you, I'm the biggest flirt there is when it comes to adorable boys like you"

     Fucking christ, it's like he knows just how to get under his skin in all the right ways and he's just texting him. That's exactly what I meant, thank you beautiful boy, he thinks to himself. He called him adorable. He hasn't even seen him and he called Frank adorable. He's just going to bask in the happiness Gee causes him before he asks to FaceTime or Skype or something. Then he will never want to talk to Frank again. As soon as he realizes his mistake of calling him adorable, Gee will delete his number. Hell, he won't be surprised if he blocks him.

     "Who wouldn't? I'm me; I'm an ugly freak. I'm the ugly freak," he thinks to himself.

     The other students in his school don't have to say it, he can see it in their eyes. The judgement that they think is nothing but to the person getting those cold glares, it breaks them down. It's never forgotten. Those glares will forever be imprinted into his mind; haunting him. Before he has the chance to answer back, the bell rings, signaling him to pack up his things.

     As he stands up, he feels as if a weight has been lifted from him. As if suddenly this anxiety or perhaps doubt has been erased from his being. He lets himself smile a little- cracking his cold exterior image. It feels nice. He supposes knowing that someone cares can do that to a person. It can make someone feel lighter; on their toes. He feels like his heart has started beating a millisecond steadier. To someone else this would be missed; overlooked. To Frank it makes all the difference in the world.


	8. Mental Pictures

It's been two weeks since Gerard and his mystery boy started talking. He refuses to tell Gerard anything about himself, like what his name is, where he lives, or what his life is like-or even his interest- and it upset Gerard at first, but after getting to know The boy, he's realized why he does what he does. Why he doesn't trust people and is hesitant let them into his life and learn about him. He's shy, but can be funny when he feels like opening up, which Gerard finds to be a wonderful quality in him. The unknown to be older man has tried flirting a few times and He's usually successful- the teenager will flirt back, but then gets nervously flustered and changes the subject. It doesn't bother Gerard all that much, however. It's incredibly adorable, in his opinion.

     As the time and days progress, Gerard's fondness for the mysterious boy has done nothing but triple. There are times that he literally has to back away from his phone or computer and just smile because he seems to be completely smitten with the boy. He is perfect, everything anyone could ever ask for in a boyfriend. He's funny, adorable, sweet, just the right amount of shy, and just genuinely enjoyable to talk to. Which brings Gerard to wonder what could be wrong with him. The boy hasn't talked much of it since they've started talking, but by scrolling through his feed- it's obvious there's something wrong. Something tearing him down inside and Gerard wishes so desperately to take all of his pain away.

     He's made it his plan- to take away the boy's pain. Gerard was him once and he taught himself how to stand above the crowd of thoughts telling him that he isn't worth it and he can teach the boy. He can teach him that he's beautiful, all of him- inside and out. He can teach him that he's loved and wanted. And Gerard can teach the boy that he is oh so important to this beautiful world. No one deserves feeling like such a waste of space to the point of not wanting to wake up in the morning. No one deserves that pain, no matter who they are or what they've done- especially not Gerard's mystery boy.

     As these thoughts ramble on inside his head, He's making his way out the doors of his university and into the cool October breeze. It's sunny out, completely contradicting the temperature and wind speed blowing his scarf through it from behind him. As the sun shines, heating the chills that rush through him as the air hits his face, Gerard remind himself of why fall is his favorite season: the beautiful colors the earth turns, the perfect weather the sky casts upon us, and- well, of course the fashion. Gerard has never exactly been into the shorts or tank tops and he honesty doubts he ever will be.. So, skinny jeans and jackets have always been his go-to, but of course he won't just leave it simple or at that. Gerard has style. Things have to match and they can't be too worn out- of course completely contradicting his Highschool self when it was exactly that. Everything had to be rugged and punk, therefor worn out and old. Blame him all you'd like, but that's what was in- grunge.

     He finally makes it into his small dorm room decorated in small pictures: taken by camera and drawn by hand. Gerard likes to capture all of his memories and special life moments. He often thinks to himself: what's the point in doing all these worth while things with nothing to take from it in the future.. To not even have the mere memory of all these special moments that were so important to us at the time.. Just to become another fragment in the land of the forgotten, overtaking our minds? So, when he doesn't have a camera on hand, he'll take a mental photo. Gerard tries his hardest to remember every detail in a situation, so he can draw it the very next second he has the chance to.

     It's almost as if it's become a game for him. Every time he's doing something or visiting somewhere and he feels as if there's some sort of beauty in the situation, Gerard will try to take up every ounce of knowledge- every detail his brain can hold, and keep it there. Keep it there until his brain can finally release it into a world of color and extraordinary brilliance in the form of pencil and paper. The world is so much simpler within a piece of paper. When it's drawn, there's no worry or conflict within that kind of story, just beauty and meaning. Sometimes Gerard used to wish that he could live in pictures like that, until he realized that he already does. He lives in a beautiful world with beautiful minds. Including one beautiful mind that he hasn't been able to get out of his head. The mind of a mysterious boy whom he's unsure he'll ever stop thinking about.


End file.
